


Spectre

by TTMIYH



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Dream Sex, F/F, Faustian Bargain, Hypnotism, Manipulation, Memory Alteration, Memory Magic, Mental Coercion, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Somnophilia, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:21:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23696881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TTMIYH/pseuds/TTMIYH
Summary: Written as a prompt fill forHSCCS Quarantine Promptfest 2020. If it's before May 1st 2020, you still have time to enter yourself! Go, go, go!Glass was as immaterial to such an ancient spirit as it looked to the untrained eye. The window was not the slightest form of impediment, and she slipped through like dust motes in air conditioning. A billowing robe slid through with just the same amount of ease, and the umbral figure made herself known to the sleeper with a dreary smile.
Relationships: The Handmaid/Rose's Mom | Beta Roxy Lalonde
Kudos: 16
Collections: HSCCS Promptfest 2020





	Spectre

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MamaSheepy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MamaSheepy/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [MamaSheepy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MamaSheepy/pseuds/MamaSheepy) in the [HSCCSPromptfest2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HSCCSPromptfest2020) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> Pick 2 characters, pick 2 kinks, write me a story.
> 
> Somnophilia  
> Focusing  
> Aftercare  
> Sensory Deprivation  
> Hypnotism  
> Oral Fixation  
> Clothing Play

She flew in, like a spectre fluttering in the dusk winds.

Glass was as immaterial to such an ancient spirit as it looked to the untrained eye. The window was not the slightest form of impediment, and she slipped through like dust motes in air conditioning. A billowing robe slid through with just the same amount of ease, and the umbral figure made herself known to the sleeper with a dreary smile.

Leaning over her, allowing her knees to come to rest on the sides of Roxanne's hips, the demon bent down, pressing her forehead to the young mother's. The demon's curled horns sparked with wicked energies and devilish magicks, and the demon's clawed fingertips came to rest on the side of the sleeper's face. They gently dug in, easily phasing through skin and bone, painlessly causing her to stir in her fitful slumber. The demon took in a deep lungful of air, and thin wisps of pink smoke drew forth from Roxanne's lips.

She sighed with satisfaction, and began breathing rust into the sleeper's throat.

Her dreams began to twist and contort. What was a perfectly comfortable nightmare about missing a forgotten exam in college had begun changing, re-arranging, developing the appearance of a sudden new figure. Roxanne, feeling an immense weight on her chest, had just about had enough of this dream, barely skirting the edges of lucidity before being shunted down by some invisible force into the land of the slumbering. In the real world, her eyes fluttered once, twice, and then hammered shut.

The teacher -- yes, the professor, she always had ruddy red skin like a brick building and dark black sclerae that shimmered with red iris light. Not only was this hazy dream an accurate recollection of the past, but it was one that she remembered so crystal clear it was hard to imagine why she had forgotten. Roxanne Lalonde. 21 years old, in an empty classroom, with her sexy red-skinned teacher. 

The real world melted away, as she breathed in more rust from the demon's lips. Her brain working to take in the new backstory it was given. There was no bed. There was no sleep. She was in a classroom with no doors. Someone could've come in and shot a gun next to her ears and she wouldn't be able to wake up now. Only a high level magus would be even able to detect the demon, much less banish it.

Roxanne was no high level magus. The world of magic had escaped her entirely, like most normal people, so this deep dive into memory lane was just an altered reality that felt blurred at the edges at worst. She was so deep inside her own dream that nothing could escape her wild rationalizations. There were never any doors, and the room didn't need them. There were never any windows, and the room didn't need them. Just desks, for the single student and the single teacher. There were never any other students, and the room didn't need them.

Had Roxanne ever told the teacher that her horns were so preposterously sexy, and that she would do anything with her professor to ensure she could ace this exam? No? That was likely because the thought was never there until the demon put it there, because Roxanne had never exchanged any sort of sexual acts for good grades. But now she was sure she had, even if the memory was hazy when she woke up. There was some sort of irresistible draw to her, the way Roxanne's body was just pulled to her glowing eyes (this was normal!), her feet walking entirely on their own. It was normal. It was natural.

And when her teacher bent down, pressed her forehead to Roxanne's, and began to inhale wisps of pink from the biologist-to-be's lips, exhaling a cloud of rust into her mouth?

* * *

Roxanne didn't know where she was anymore. She had been burnt down to the core, falling through so many layers of the dreaming that she no longer knew which way was up and which way was down. All she knew was that she was in a black pit, and it felt right. This was where the bottom of all her memories resolved to, this black pit, where she was kept when she needed fixing

There was nothing suspicious about the reoccurring red-figure in her dreams. The hazy connections of dream logic allowed her to freely ignore any concerns her mind showed her, and when the demoness appeared to Roxanne with an offer and an outstretched hand, how could she refuse? The demon was there all Roxanne's life, in every important, milestone moment. The demon had always been kind to her. The demon had always pleased her, at first with kindness and pleasantry, and then, when Roxanne had passed the threshold of adulthood, with sensual pleasures. The demon was trustworthy

Of course, she would let the demon come to roost in her mind. She didn't even need to think about it. She grabbed her hand and shook it of her own

Roxanne woke up, with a glint and a glimmer in her eyes. There was nothing to be found in her bedroom out of the ordinary. Even if she was a high level magus, there was no demon sitting on her chest to take note of. She reached down, sliding a hand into her boxers and idly pushing a finger into herself. Wet. Sticky. Really, the whole front of her underwear had been soaked through, and the collar of her sleeping shirt was sopping wet with a cold sweat. A pair of warm hands on the back of her shoulders let her know she wasn't alone. She wasn't afraid.

She pulled her fingers out, examining them clinically, a rust red gleam in her eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> All comments, kudos, bookmarks, and views are seen, noted, and greatly appreciated. Thank you for reading.
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ttmiyh)  
> [Tumblr](https://ttmiyh.tumblr.com)  
> [Homestuck Content Creation Station](https://discord.gg/ymB3spr) (come join us and hone your craft!)
> 
> ...might fuck around and extend this into a full fic later. Maybe.


End file.
